


borderline

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Splitting, Suicide, phil is dan's fp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6878014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dan has been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder for a few years now. what happened in 2012 seems to come back, though this time is ten times worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	borderline

dan had turned twenty-one a few weeks before he got diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. it made sense; he had been showing all of those symptoms since his teenage years. he remembered 2012, the year that was by far worse. he split on phil fairly constantly that year, and it was a bad time for his mental health.

his mood was like a light switch. just a little bit of pressure, and soon he was either completely off or completely on. he hated it so much. just a mildly bad thing could make him breakdown and small compliments could make him feel on top of the world. he hated his impulses, how he would spend money on useless things just for the hell of it or drink too much just to have fun once.

he woke up to phil pressed against him, and he smiled softly. he loved phil so much, he almost always did. but it felt like 2012 all over again for some reason he couldn't name. they were full of mistrust again, or at least that was what dan said to himself.

it could be just your paranoia, he had to remind himself. he was on edge almost all day, thoughts haphazardly thrown around about self harming or breaking up with phil.

phil was, weirdly enough, the second one to wake up. he blinked the sleep away and got up his bed, looking for dan before going to shower. he looked at him, a grin in his lips. "good morning, dan."

dan glanced at him, so full of love he felt in the sky. "goodmorning, phil."

"did you take your meds?" knowing the answer beforehand, he went to the cupboard and took the pills his boyfriend needed. he left them in the table, nudging dan's neck softly. "i know you don't like them, but they'll make you feel better."

they don't even work, dan thought bitterly. his mood swings were still fairly common, even with all those meds he was taking. he still had those 'delusions'; or odd beliefs, how he preferred to call them. they didn't work at all. but he did swallow them, no questions asked. "thank you. i just keep forgetting..." he said, trailing off.

phil was about to snap and tell him that he had been in meds for three years, but he stopped himself from unleashing dan's mood swings or, hell, even splits. "that's okay. i'll keep making sure you have taken them."

"so what do we do today?" dan said, avoiding the subject of the medication. he shifted around as he ate some cereal, not really paying attention to its taste. "i'm not really in the mood for a video."

"i'm not either," phil admitted, licking his lip. "it's still fairly early, love. what if we take a nap?"

dan's eyes lit up, both because of the offering and the way phil had said love. "sure!" he took another spoon of cereal, drank some water and went to bed. phil followed him drowsily. they fell asleep quickly.

* * *

dan woke up from a nightmare. he remembered not seeing phil anywhere in it. he had abandoned him. he had abandoned him. he drew a sharp breath, biting his lip in fear. he still felt phil against him, which meant he hadn't left him yet.

but what if he does, he told himself silently. what if he does. he turned around and saw how peacefully the older man was sleeping, and he prodded him with his hand. "phil," he whispered, like a kid scared of the dark.

phil's eyes -- so blue dan could drown in them -- opened and he looked around, confused. then his gaze met dan's, and he saw his fear so clearly it made him worry. "dan?" he asked, as if testing the waters. "what's wrong?"

dan let out a whimper and got closer to the raven-haired boy. "you won't leave me, right?" he asked, his face buried in phil's chest. he felt childish and immature, but he couldn't help it. he was so scared. so scared of phil leaving him, of phil breaking up with him, of phil hurting him. and it hurt, it felt like broken glass and fake smiles. "you won't leave me?"

phil put his arms around the other boy's back. "of course i won't, dan. of course i won't."

"you promise?" he broke the hug and looked up at him, pleading in his eyes. "you promise?" he asked again, this time more firm.

phil kissed him softly. "i promise. i promise."

dan didn't feel fully calmed down, but it was enough for that moment. he got closer to phil again and fell again in a fitful sleep. phil just watched him, his thoughts swirling around dan's fragile mental health. he bit his lip as he closed his eyes, in an attempt to sleep.

it seemed like 2012 all over again.

* * *

dan tapped his fingers against the table as he scrolled through his twitter timeline, his phone playing some fall out boy song with a title too long to remember. he sighed, feeling tired -- more than normal. phil hadn't really talked to him that day, and he felt empty, lacking. he guessed phil needed time alone, like anyone did, but his mind was still a train wreck. he's gonna leave me, he hates me, he thinks i'm crazy.

dan's fear was too much to go and ask his housemate in person. he opened kik and, for all subtlety, he just sent a 'you haven't really talked to me today. is something wrong?' he could have thought of some sarcastic remark, but he didn't.

phil took a few minutes to answer. 'i'm sorry, i just need time alone from time to time, you know?'

dan's first thought was something terribly self-centered, at least in his opinion. he thought that yes, that was okay, but that he mattered more. that phil should /always/ talk to him.

oh, he knew what came next. he knew it too well, but he couldn't avoid it at all. a wave of hatred and rage came to his heart. he didn't even bother answering to phil's text. he took his earbuds away and left his phone on his bed and got up.

he opened phil's door with no second thought. "you're a piece of shit!" he yelled immediately, knowing that it was wrong, that phil was sunshine in human form, but he couldn't stop himself.

phil just looked at him, a little bit startled. "dan, you --"

dan didn't even hesitate when he heard phil's calm, secure tone. "you're so horrible!" he spat. "you ignore me for hours to end when you /know/ i depend on your attention and you don't fucking care. fuck you. fuck you."

phil let out a strangled cry. his sure, he's-just-splitting-on-me attitude was gone in a second. he got up his bed and tried to go after dan. "dan, listen -- i --"

"go away!" dan growled as he closed and locked his own door. he looked for the paper he always had there, to use when his rage was burning him inside out. he ripped it to shreds, not feeling himself calm down.

he has all the right to not talk to me.

no, he doesn't.

he does.

he's terrible. he knows he's my favorite person. he's a piece of shit.

he is not. he makes you happy, he makes you feel loved. he is good.

he ignores me. he's not good at all.

dan decided to follow the last train of thought.

* * *

phil's fears had come true. it felt like a bad parody, a caricature of the hell 2012 was. he remembered similar hurtful words dan said every other month, how he would hear him punch walls or rip sheets of paper. how their relationship had been at its lowest point.

and it was back. dan hadn't had visible, full of repercussions splits for years. they were happy. they were okay. but it had shattered overnight, and it made him wanna die. he had always been /healthy/, the shoulder dan leaned on. but now he felt himself fall.

dan had disappeared from all social media, and hadn't talked to phil not even once either. phil preferred going to his room now, and he was back at it by eleven. by eleven and a half, he heard dan's footsteps and he knew he had went to get food.

he could have approached him, he could have done what he did four years ago. but that had just made it worse. he remembered how dan would tell him to fuck off as soon as he tried to talk to him, and how there was pure rage, pure hatred on his eyes.

the splits didn't last long; a week at most. but it was still scary and they couldn't function properly for a few days after dan apologized and they tried to live on.

phil was having breakfast calmly when he heard dan's footsteps coming from the door. he turned around, hoping it meant it was over. but dan's eyes weren't regretful or sad; they were emotionless, numb. phil saw dan had a backpack and understanding struck him like a thunderbolt.

"dan, no, why --"

dan took the smallest box of cereal he could find and he fit it on his backpack, not even making eye contact with his boyfriend, his lips pursed. he took a water bottle from the refrigerator, too. "i'm leaving," he said, his voice flat.

"dan, you can't --"

"i can and i will," dan snapped, now looking at him. phil suppressed a shiver as he saw the lack of emotion, the lack of /life/ in his chocolate eyes.

phil could try stop him, but he didn't know how. not even back then dan had tried to do this. he didn't know what to do and he was scared, because even if he didn't have a personality disorder, he was fairly dependent on his boyfriend too.

he let out a long sigh. "listen, dan, you'll regret it. this is just an impulse -- it won't help at all, babe."

dan didn't seem to snap out of it. "it's not just an impulse. it's my decision. you won't see me around anymore, phil." he didn't even look angry or hateful, he looked tired and empty, phil realized as he stared at him in silence.

phil didn't answer and just stared blankly to the love of his life. he got up and walked towards him. dan gritted his teeth and let out a menacing hiss. "get away," he whispered.

phil didn't care. dan could kill him for all he knew, and he didn't care. his lips met dan's, even when the latter didn't react. it wasn't rough, it was soft and it felt like cotton candy. it was their first kiss in... a week, perhaps? and phil missed it.

after what felt like hours, dan pushed him away. he fixed his backpack, and he seemed a little bit startled, but numbness still covered his factions. "leave me alone," he said, barely a whisper. phil almost didn't hear him. "you're dead to me for all i care."

those words made phil feel like absolute shit. he felt his heart sink. he should be used to it, he had heard the same words before, four years ago. but he didn't remember how it felt like a deep, deep ocean where you can't hear anything -- not even your own thoughts. and you're sinking and you're drowning and you're dying and you just feel empty. not even sad, not even heartbroken. just empty, just numb.

phil almost didn't react to dan slamming the door shut. but he did, and he opened it quickly. he could still see dan walking down the street, only with his backpack and nothing more. he followed him in silence, biting his lip, fear eating at him. he wondered if this was definitive, if they would be like this forever.

he tried to cheer up. to remember he thought the same things in 2012, and they were fixed over time.

but dan had never left their place. dan had never ran away. dan had never screamed such hurtful words.

phil shook his head and kept walking.

* * *

dan was still hateful, he was still stubbornly enraged over phil's attitude when he left. but as he was walking down the street, not sure where to go, he felt himself kind of calm down. he felt himself miss that kiss, phil's voice, phil's everything.

he sighed, feeling regretful. he knew from the start he didn't mean those words. he loved phil so much, and tiny things like that would make him explode, would make him angry until he losed his mind.

just like four years ago.

it hadn't come that far back then, though. back then it'd be just silence and nights alone. not leaving the house, not screaming at him, no unresponsive kisses.

it seemed like the end of it all over again. it felt like it.

he kept walking absentmindedly, not really realizing what was around him. he didn't feel as if he owned those feelings, those thoughts, that body. he felt disconnected from everything and everyone. he didn't feel as himself.

he didn't notice how phil said dan every few minutes, too. he just noticed he was walking, that he didn't have a place to go. he felt numb and empty and he was falling, falling, falling.

he finally stopped walking and recovered his senses what felt hours after. he was in a street with a starbucks in it. he drew a sharp breath as he noticed that it was the one phil and him went to every other week.

he turned his head around and saw the raven-haired boy, who looked exhausted but still adamant to follow him until the end of the world. he noticed he felt terribly tired too. he must have been walking for hours. he waited for phil to be at his side, and he couldn't look at him in the eye.

"i'm sorry..." he said, motioning his hands around vaguely. "i shouldn't... god, i'm such a fuck up." he sighed, feeling terrible. he had hated phil for days just because he needed time to himself.

monster. i'm a fucking monster.

phil didn't answer, but rather came closer to the taller boy. he then hugged him. he had missed his scent that reminded him of all things good, the way he was a walking hurricane but also the softest of rains.

but dan pulled away. there wasn't hate or rage in the eyes phil had fell in love with -- they were full of regret, full of shame. "don't touch me," he murmured, his eyes not meeting phil's. "i don't deserve any affection at all," he stated. it didn't even sound like an opinion -- it was, for him, just a fact. a simple fact he should have known from the start.

dan looked at phil's eyes for a second and he broke the contact rapidly. "please don't follow me. i just... don't deserve you. i'll... go to a hotel or something. i'm sorry."

phil stared at him blankly, disbelief in his eyes. "you deserve everything, dan. you deserve all the love in all the world."

"all i do is hurt people."

"all you do is love people too hard."

dan didn't even bother arguing. he just sighed and turned around. "don't follow me, phil. don't contact me. you can say what happened in youtube if you want. but i'll be safe -- do not worry about me."

phil swallowed hard, knowing he had to respect what dan wanted. even though he knew it'd hurt both of them. but it was dan's decision, and not his. he nodded. "it's your decision," he said.

dan didn't look back. "thank you, phil." a silent tear fell down his cheek. "thank you for everything."

phil didn't answer as he saw him walk away from him, at a light pace, not looking back once.

* * *

it had been three months when he was checking the newspaper on a website when he noticed a rather... interesting article.

he had to read the title many times to process its words. no, no, no, he thought. this can't be true, this can't be true. then he scrolled to the photo, and a strangled cry came out of his mouth. it was a picture of /him/. of daniel james howell, his boyfriend, his love, the one he hadn't talked to for months to end at the other's request.

twenty-four year old commits suicide at a hotel in london, he reads. and the new turns even more terrific as he reads on; there's a link to a photo of his suicide note. he's afraid to click it, because he's sure dan mentioned him in it. he's so afraid, because dan didn't exist anymore. those eyes wouldn't shine again, that heart wouldn't beat again.

he opened the link shakily. he read all of it, but just the dedications really stuck with him.

"dear phil: this is not your fault; please don't blame yourself. i didn't deserve you, and all these years of being a monster were enough. i repeat: it wasn't your fault. it was for the best."

dan is dead, he thought out loud. dan is dead.

* * *

dan was tired, so very tired. he didn't have any friends any more, and he just passed days staring at the walls, eating little and getting notifications on social media he didn't even bother reading. he hated living.

he took a notebook he had bought and a pencil. he sighed, knowing since day one he would end up doing this. he wrote down rather firmly: 'my name is daniel james howell, and i'm twenty four years old. i got diagnosed with borderline personality disorder when i was twenty one, and since then my life has gone downhill until the point i've decided to kill myself. it's for the best. don't cry for me, or anything like that. i am a monster, i am terrible. i didn't deserve to live.'

he kept writing, and the words flowed out so naturally he started thinking he was born for this. he was born to be a youtube celebrity, he was born to love a guy he didn't deserve at all, he was born to die at his own hand.

his hands hurt and it was late when he ended writing it. he left it on his bed and drew a long sigh, almost as if he just had a really bad day and he was ready to go rest. he looked for the pills he brought with him, to remain as healthy as possible -- of course it didn't work.

he took thirty of them. it made him feel dizzy and lightheaded, but he did his best to not throw up all of it. he passed out, and before he regained consciousness, he was dead.

he didn't care. he was dead. the monster was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> and so we end. i apologize. i hope it was of your liking.


End file.
